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The airship, massive and looking like a well-fed dragon lazily crossing the sky, was on a night flight. The trip was quite long; having taken off at sunset, the vessel wasn't due to reach its destination until nine o'clock the next morning. For this reason, passengers with money were provided with cabins no worse than rooms in a decent hotel, where they could spend the night in comfort. In the airship's lounge, passengers traveling without frills sat in fairly comfortable soft chairs, and there was also a bar—for those wishing to pass the time pleasantly with a simple drink. The bar was a study in contrasts. Warm amber lighting reflected off polished wood and crystal glasses, creating an illusion of warmth that couldn't quite penetrate the cold night air seeping through the reinforced windows. A handful of passengers clustered at small tables, voices low and drowsy, lulled by the steady hum of the airship's engines.Hisoka sat at the bar itself, a tumbler of whiskey catching the light like liquid gold. He appeared relaxed—one elbow on the counter, painted face angled to watch the lounge's comings and goings with lazy interest. But anyone with functioning survival instincts gave him a wide berth. Something about the way he smiled, the way his eyes tracked movement like a predator watching prey, set off alarm bells in hindsight brains.Three seats down, a businessman had started to sit, then thought better of it and moved to a table instead.Hisoka's smile widened.He was bored. Magnificently, soul-crushingly bored. The mission that had brought him and Illumi onto this airship had concluded almost too easily—a simple retrieval, barely worth the effort.
The artifact—an ancient medallion engraved with cryptic symbols—now rested in a sealed container within their luggage. The client hadn't even explained why he wanted the trinket, but he had paid generously. The security had proven laughably weak: two bodyguards and one empathic Manipulator who tried to use Nen on Illumi and received a needle to the back of the head for his insolence.
The entire operation had taken seventeen minutes.
Illumi had executed it with mechanical precision—enter, neutralize threats, retrieve the target, exit. Not a single wasted movement. Not a drop of blood spilled that wasn't absolutely necessary.
Hisoka hadn't even had time to truly enjoy himself. Hence, the boredom.
And now they had twelve hours of flight time ahead with nothing to do but wait.Well. Almost nothing.Hisoka's gaze drifted toward the hallway leading to the private cabins, where Illumi had sequestered himself the moment they boarded. Antisocial as ever, preferring solitude to the tedious company of ordinary humans.
Hisoka recalled their first mission together—three years ago, in a southern port city. Illumi had simply appeared beside him at a bar, taken the adjacent stool, and stated without emotion: "My target is in the building next door. Yours is across the street. They are working together. It is logical to join forces." No introductions, no negotiations over price. Just cold rationality.
By morning, both targets were dead, and Hisoka realized he had found something rare—a partner who neither feared him nor irritated him with weakness. Illumi was perfect in his insensibility. And it was... arousing.
They had worked together regularly since then. Not out of friendship—Illumi didn't grasp the concept—but out of convenience. For mutual benefit. And for that spark of danger each saw in the other.
It was one of the things Hisoka found most charming about him—that utter lack of social pretense."Another whiskey, sir?" The bartender's voice was professionally neutral, but Hisoka caught the slight tension in his shoulders."Why not?" Hisoka slid his empty glass forward, watching the man's hands remain perfectly steady as he poured. Professional. Good survival instincts—never show fear to a predator. "Tell me, have you noticed the two young boys on this flight? One with white hair, one with black?"The bartender's eyes flicked up briefly. "The ones traveling coach? Yes, sir. They've been watching the clouds for the past hour.""Mm." Hisoka accepted the refilled glass. "And the tall man with very long black hair? You've seen him?""In cabin 7-B, sir. He came through once, briefly, then returned to his room."Interesting. So Illumi had left the cabin at some point. Hisoka had been in the lounge for the past hour and hadn't seen him. Which meant...His smile turned sharp.Illumi had been checking on Killua. Of course he had. The eldest Zoldyck could resist many temptations, but the urge to verify his younger brother's safety wasn't one of them.Hisoka downed the whiskey in one smooth motion and stood. Time to stop being bored.As he walked away from the bar, he heard the bartender exhale—a long, relieved breath.Smart man.It was only fifteen minutes until midnight—the exact time when sleepiness sets in, especially if you're bored stiff. Most of the passengers were already dozing in their seats, occasionally disturbing the peaceful, enclosed space of the aircraft with unrestrained, comical snoring.Spotting something interesting for himself in this drowsy environment, which felt as thick as liquid amber trapping fossilized objects, a man stood out sharply with his flamboyant appearance: fiery hair rising like tongues of flame; bold makeup—a sharp star on one cheek and a neat teardrop on the other; a suit like a joker stepped off a playing card, emphasizing a fit, trained body. He stretched his lips into a smirk that held a wild mixture of carnality and playfulness. Anticipating something fun shortly, he downed a glass of whiskey in one gulp and, leaving the bar counter, returned to his companion, who had been holed up in their cabin since boarding."You're so antisocial, Illumi-kun," the eccentric traveler complained to his companion from the doorway. His tone held only theatrical disappointment and not a shred of seriousness. The young man addressed as Illumi was sitting cross-legged on a spacious double bed with his back to the newcomer, reading something. He didn't see fit to react to the remark thrown his way. Instead, without even turning around, he voiced his request."Hisoka," Illumi sounded flat, like a bassoon playing a single note. "The door.""And so unwelcoming..." Hisoka sighed almost ruefully, but he closed the cabin door. He even locked it. Two sharp clicks of the lock echoed vulgarly.Through the thick glass of the portholes, the starless night seeped into the cabin, timidly diluted by the artificial light of the bedside sconces. This dimmed light in a cabin intended for married couples—since no other vacancies were available, to Hisoka’s delight and Illumi’s indifference—turned the setting into something extremely intimate. Truth be told, the eldest son of the famous Zoldyck family of assassins paid no attention to the surroundings, entirely absorbed in his reading. His companion, who by established tradition had become Illumi's partner on this latest mission, approached the bed with the lazy grace of a predator. He had the clear intention of pestering his companion, who was driving him to boredom with his inertia—and thus provoking him. For that, Hisoka wanted to tease him back...The bed sagged slightly under the weight of the second person. Hisoka knelt behind Illumi and peered curiously over his shoulder."Hm..." he grunted in surprise. "I didn't know you were into mythology.""I found the book in the desk drawer," Illumi explained, turning his head to the right and meeting a conveniently placed painted cheek. Zoldyck continued as if nothing were out of the ordinary, his lips and the tip of his nose barely brushing the other's skin as he spoke: "It must have been left by the previous guests."Returning to the text that had caught his interest, Illumi's huge, hawk-like eyes ran over a few more lines. Then, in a voice expressing a very remote hint of interest—one that perhaps only someone in close contact with him could notice—he added: "It's actually quite fascinating."Hisoka chuckled behind him and pressed his chest tighter against his companion's stone-still back. Pinning the wrists of the book-holding Illumi with his strong palms and burying his face in the long black hair, he purred into the nape of the other's neck: "I agree. It's a fun myth..."Illumi didn't move, but his posture shifted—infinitesimally, imperceptibly to anyone who wasn't Hisoka. The assassin's shoulders rolled back slightly beneath Hisoka's chest, weight redistributing even while sitting. Combat-ready."You're tense, Illumi-kun," Hisoka observed, his palms sliding from Illumi's wrists up along his forearms. "Expecting an attack?""Always." Illumi's voice was flat, but his Nen flickered—a brief purple pulse. "Your Nen is leaking. That implies intent.""Perhaps I'm simply... excited," Hisoka murmured, but his aura was indeed beginning to seep out—pink and syrupy, filling the small cabin like smoke, pressing against Illumi's controlled purple energy.There was no response, though Hisoka felt the young man in his arms shift his shoulder slightly, either showing minor annoyance at being disturbed or egging him on to continue the game. The second option was to the man’s liking, so his palms slid upward—along Illumi's forearms, over the firm muscles of his arms, and only stopped when they reached his neck. Hisoka circled his companion’s exposed throat, lightly—barely pressing on the steadily pulsing vessels—and stroked the temptingly bare, cool skin with teasing, circular motions of his thumbs.The atmosphere in the cabin shifted abruptly. Despite Zoldyck remaining outwardly impassive, an experienced fighter would have easily sensed how lethal the aura enveloping him had become. Illumi's Nen didn't spread like Hisoka's; it coiled around him like living needles, each thread of energy precise and lethal. It was a warning: the stranger's hostile intentions had not gone unnoticed, and the opponent had approached a dangerous line, beyond which a deadly battle would inevitably follow. But Hisoka craved exactly that. Perhaps not right this second... but he couldn't deny himself the pleasure of stirring up a sea of magnificent power and rage. Therefore...Strong hands neatly squeezed the throat of the young man, who didn't even flinch, sealing the oxygen-filled breath within the victim's fiercely surging chest. Hisoka, digging into the neck of his perfect opponent a bit more roughly while never for a moment stopping the gentle stroking of his skin with his thumb pads, was suddenly seared by a powerful wave of frenzied Nen. It enveloped Moro's body like a dark mist, hit his nostrils with the scent of blood that made them quiver in bliss, and betrayed Illumi's intention to tear his playful companion to pieces.If Hisoka had been serious, Zoldyck would have carried out his intention immediately. An enraged Illumi was truly terrifying. If Hisoka were inferior in strength to this natural-born killer, the horror would have surely made him tremble. Actually, he was trembling, but it was far from fear..."Illumi-kun," Hisoka suddenly switched to a seductive whisper, and the moment his half-joking malice dissipated, Illumi's hostility vanished without a trace. "If I'm dismembered, will you take care of me and keep my body parts?"When Zoldyck turned around, free from the collar of the other's palms and having set aside the book he'd found, his unreadable face—impenetrable and cold as if carved from ice—showed traces of surprise. Such a strange question clearly puzzled Illumi, though few could have spotted it, save for Hisoka, who was among the select few capable of understanding the hopelessly blurred edges of the seemingly emotionless killer's feelings. This time, Illumi was given away by his eyebrows, which rose only slightly above his piercing black eyes."I'll feed your remains to Mike," Illumi delivered a heartless and, for him, extremely practical answer, at which his companion only laughed."That would be the most gruesome funeral rite!"Hisoka seemed delighted—in that side of him where not even a semblance of decency remains. Furthermore, he planned to coax the emotionally inaccessible young man with whom he shared the troubles of travel, the room, and the bed into the same state. Illumi was never prone to allegories, but now, watching Hisoka, he involuntarily associated him with the Serpent-Tempter, luring a potential sinner. Provocative lack of inhibition, wanton aggression, a voluptuous whisper—it was enough to make the manipulator-assassin reach toward the source of these dark matters."If you're bored," Illumi said suddenly, standing in one fluid motion that forced Hisoka to lean back, "we could spar."Hisoka's eyes lit up with genuine delight. "Reading my mind, darling?""Reading your Nen. It's practically screaming."The offer hung in the air for exactly two seconds.Then Illumi moved.The first strike came without telegraphing—a needle appearing between his fingers as if by magic, thrown with surgical precision toward Hisoka's carotid. The magician's head snapped to the side, the needle embedding itself in the wooden headboard with a sharp thunk, exactly where his throat had been a millisecond before.Hisoka's counterattack was immediate: a card—pulled from seemingly nowhere—sliced through the air in a curved trajectory, Bungee Gum already active and extending its path. Illumi didn't dodge; instead, he caught it between two fingers, stopping it dead."Predictable," he commented, voice perfectly flat."Effective," Hisoka countered, yanking on the invisible Nen thread. The card jerked from Illumi's grip—but not before the assassin used the pull to launch himself forward.They collided in the center of the cabin—not grappling, but a rapid exchange of strikes and blocks that would have looked like a deadly dance to any observer. Hisoka's palm thrust toward Illumi's sternum; Illumi slipped sideways, elbow driving toward Hisoka's jaw. The magician caught the elbow, yanked, trying to disrupt Illumi's balance.But Illumi had no balance to disrupt. He went with the pull, used the momentum to bring his knee up toward Hisoka's ribs. It connected—hard—and Hisoka's grin widened even as he felt the impact."Beautiful," he breathed, even as his Bungee Gum adhered their limbs together at the point of contact. "Your form has improved.""Flattery won't save you." Illumi's free hand already had a needle pressed to Hisoka's carotid artery. Not breaking skin. Not yet. "Stalemate."They froze like that—knee to ribs, needle to throat, connected by elastic Nen that stretched taut between them. The cabin was silent except for their slightly elevated breathing. Both were smiling—Hisoka with manic glee, Illumi with the barest upturn of his lips that only appeared when he was genuinely engaged."Your Nen is stronger than last month," Illumi observed clinically, even as the needle pressed a fraction deeper. A bead of blood welled up, dark against Hisoka's pale skin."Yours is sharper," Hisoka replied, his free hand coming up to wrap around Illumi's wrist—not restraining, just... holding. Feeling the steady pulse beneath cool skin. "Like you've been refining the edge. Preparing for something?""Maintaining standards." Illumi's eyes flicked down to where their bodies were still connected by Bungee Gum, to the blood on Hisoka's throat. "Are you going to release me, or do you enjoy this position?""Oh, I enjoy it immensely." Hisoka's grip on Illumi's wrist tightened, thumb pressing against the pulse point, feeling how steady it remained despite the combat. "But you know what I'd enjoy more?"The needle withdrew from Hisoka's throat—slowly, deliberately, leaving a thin red line. Illumi's head tilted slightly—the closest he came to a question."Seeing how long you can maintain that perfect control," Hisoka whispered, releasing the Bungee Gum but not his hold on Illumi's wrist, "when I do this—"He yanked, hard, pulling Illumi off-balance. The assassin could have countered—should have countered—his reflexes were certainly fast enough. But he chose not to. Instead, he allowed himself to fall, twisting at the last second so that when they landed on the mattress, Illumi was on top, straddling Hisoka's hips, both of Hisoka's wrists pinned above his head in an iron grip."You were saying?" Illumi asked, voice perfectly level despite the compromising position, despite the fact that he could feel Hisoka's arousal beneath him.Hisoka's laugh was low and dangerous. His Nen pulsed—pink, hot, wanting. "That you're even more perfect when you pretend you're not playing along.""I don't pretend." Illumi leaned down, black hair falling like a curtain around them both, blocking out the dim cabin light. "I simply choose my battles.""And this battle?" Hisoka's voice had gone husky.Illumi's eyes—usually so empty, so void-like—held something that might have been hunger. Might have been curiosity. Might have been want. He looked at the blood on Hisoka's throat, the thin line he'd drawn, and something shifted in his expression."This battle," he said quietly, releasing one of Hisoka's wrists to trace the bleeding cut with one finger, then bringing that finger to his own lips, "I've already decided to lose."He tasted Hisoka's blood—copper and salt and something uniquely him—and watched the magician's pupils dilate to swallow the gold.That was when Hisoka's control snapped.Illumi slid weightlessly across the bed, closer to the hunter who was smirking in anticipation."Does your own death turn you on that much?"Zoldyck, positioned between his companion’s spread knees and fixing an unblinking, eerie stare into Hisoka’s slyly narrowed amber eyes, couldn’t resist the question. He had to know the answer so that, armed with this knowledge, he could use it if necessary. Illumi always thought rationally, in his own way.'Oh, yes...' Hisoka exhaled slowly—almost sang.The pink Nen still shimmered around them both, mixing with purple in the charged air of the cabin. In an instant, the anthracite waterfall of Illumi’s hair was roughly bunched in a fist at the roots, and his slender, supple body—supported by his partner’s hand at the small of his back—was arched over the bed in a beautiful, fluid curve. A muffled, devilish whisper shamelessly brushed the assassin's ear: 'And what excites me even more is the thought that you could be the cause of it...'The remark was met without a verbal reaction, but Hisoka felt Illumi—whose arms hung relaxed, touching the bedding—press a knee firmly into his long-overfilled organ of desire. For this, he paid the price: his head was jerked back even further, as if in hopes of tearing it off, forcing him to indifferently study the quite prosaic ceiling. Meanwhile, his heated partner reached beneath the fabric of his trousers and underwear, shamelessly covering his bare flesh with a palm. Hisoka smirked maliciously as he heard Zoldyck let out a sound that was hard to identify—something between a restrained sigh and a grunt of disapproval.In his position, however, Illumi had no intention of changing anything. For now, everything suited him: the uncomfortable pose—as if, attacked by an aggressive opponent, you were trying to keep your balance over a wolf pit; Hisoka’s teasing caresses as he lazily stroked his length beneath his clothes; and the bites at the base of his neck, which Hisoka methodically left around the semicircle of the throat offered to him, slowly and smoothly tugging at the pale skin with his teeth, millimeter by millimeter, as if marking a line to sever the head from the body...At some point, absorbed in the hypothetical decapitation of his partner and listening with satisfaction to the gradually heavy rhythm of his breathing, Hisoka caught a sharp, cold glint from the side and a momentary, professionally precise movement—the exact strikes of an assassin completing a mission. A needle in Illumi’s right hand, drawn from the vest he wore that was bristling with such weapons, flashed like dangerous, nimble lightning in the dim light of the sconce and came to rest obediently at the lips of its master, which were set in an indifferent straight line.'Barbaric,' Hisoka noted indulgently, summarizing his companion’s handiwork, and with one hand deftly rid himself of the shredded remains of what had once been his top. The intimate caresses had to be interrupted, though Illumi didn't seem to care. Still held by Moro by the head, he lightly touched the tip of the needle to the lower lip of his slightly parted mouth and continued to study the ceiling—thoughtfully now. Hisoka licked his lips hungrily. He wanted to drive that needle, touching those vice-inducing lips, into its owner’s flesh until it bled—and to fiercely, uncontrollably possess the owner himself...However, Illumi’s reflection didn't last long, so Hisoka had to cool his heels.'Where are our things?' Zoldyck asked, slipping out of his partner’s rough embrace and quickly removing his vest and shirt. Despite his arousal and slightly quickened breathing, his voice remained steady.'I believe I tossed them under the bed,' Hisoka replied with maximum innocence, shrugging and smiling at the liveliness with which Illumi began his search. Leaning off the bed and leaving Hisoka to view his rear, he began to thoroughly investigate the contents of the travel bag found in the indicated spot. His hair, sliding off his back and blocking his view like a black curtain, got into his eyes like a sticky web, but Zoldyck successfully ignored this annoying and insignificant hindrance. He also ignored the fact that the self-proclaimed magician, tired of waiting, placed his palms against his partner's thighs—which were gradually being exposed by his efforts—and smoothly pulled down his pants along with his underwear.Illumi could literally feel the burning gaze of those bright eyes; he imagined how a wild, ecstatic pleasure distorted Hisoka’s fascinatingly cruel features as he shamelessly watched him, settled comfortably behind him at the other end of the bed. Hisoka admired the magnificent sight of temptingly exposed private places, the strong, tensed thigh and gluteal muscles, beautifully outlined by sharp shadows in the pale golden light, creating the illusion that the young assassin's beautiful, strong body was cast in bronze.What he was looking for was nowhere to be found, and Illumi caught himself, with surprise, realizing he was starting to get irritated. He immediately and indulgently chalked up the excess emotion to Hisoka's harmful influence, deciding it was a minor trifle: once Hisoka was gone, the emotions would vanish on their own.'Is this what you’re looking for?'Hisoka’s deep, stirring voice sounded right at his ear, and Illumi froze as someone else’s arousal, still encased in the armor of clothes, wedged itself between his buttocks. The hunter, leaning over him, stopped his search and, quickly finding a tube of lubricant in one of the bag's hidden pockets, placed the desired item into his palm. Zoldyck turned around. His wide-open, inhuman eyes, hidden by the ebony silk of his disheveled hair, looked imperturbably at his conspiratorially grinning companion. Illumi nodded, confirming the importance of the find, then made a sharp backward movement, pressing his backside into his partner’s crotch so hard that Hisoka let out a long gasp—or perhaps a howl, like a beast drunk on blood—from the painful friction of the seemingly harsh fabric against his sensitive, erect organ. At least, that’s how it sounded to Illumi.Gripping his partner’s waist with both hands, Hisoka easily and deftly dragged the apathetically yielding young man from the edge to the center of the bed, accidentally knocking the ill-placed book left on the sheets, which no one was paying attention to anymore. While Moro was busy stripping himself to complete nakedness, Illumi tried to use the contents of the precious tube, but Hisoka, appearing nimbly at his side, insolently snatched the lubricant from his hands.'Allow me,' whispered the man who called himself a magician, and Zoldyck again had to brush off the strange vision of the serpent seducing him.'As you wish,' Illumi said indifferently, as if enchanted, staring fixatedly at the debauched lips curved in a slight smirk, waiting for a forked snake tongue to flicker between their beckoning gates at any moment. He barely suppressed the urge—like a swift, proud falcon—to release ominous claws and engage in a struggle with the dangerous reptile, but he held back. Such a fight was neither profitable nor meaningful right now. And not as pleasant as what his body craved.Turning away from Hisoka but still on his knees, Illumi clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward, pressing his chest into the rough fabric of the bedspread. The offer was accepted with enthusiasm. Hisoka loved it when Illumi took the initiative. The clasped hands were immediately seized by the hunter's powerful palm and mercilessly pulled up almost above the voluntary captive’s head, nearly perpendicular to the bed’s surface; twisted at the joints to a dangerous limit, as if the lover playing executioner seriously wanted to dislocate his partner's shoulders. And then tear them out and hurl them to different ends of the room, splashing dark red blood from torn vessels across the creamy bedding and the wooden floor.Hisoka trembled with impatience. This lush, violent vision practically stripped him of his self-control. He passionately needed a sacrifice, needed it to the point of madness, but a sacrifice that was by no means bloody. That... would come later. His proudly rising phallus throbbed and needed release from the agonizing tension. And he needed Illumi. To kill or maim Illumi would be wasteful and irrational. But the bloody vision was intoxicating, as was the young man who dominantly called him by name and tried to give orders in a metallic tone—like a program set for destruction—even while in such a revealing pose with legs invitingly spread and chest pressed to the bed. Zoldyck felt no pain, only a slight numbness and a prickly pulse in his shoulders, while his anus was touched by a viscous coolness, pushed deeper inside by fingers confidently and unhurriedly kneading his tight interior.'By the way, I forgot to ask,' Hisoka suddenly announced, continuing to work on his frowning partner; Illumi didn't like his tricky tone at all. 'Confess, Illumi-kun, you didn't board this specific flight by accident, did you?'Moro made an unimaginably swift movement within his lover’s anus, which had relaxed from the skillful touch, hitting sensitive nerves that immediately responded with a sweet spasm fluttering through his immobilized body. Illumi let out a muffled gasp into the bedspread, which swallowed the involuntary cry—too loud and shameful, it seemed to him. Hisoka pretended he hadn't heard a thing.'Obviously it wasn't an accident,' Zoldyck answered plainly in a slightly hoarse, quiet voice muffled by the fabric, and bit his lip hard as he felt the heat of the large head ready to burst into his anus. But Hisoka didn't move. He waited for Illumi to finish his thought, but the latter hesitated, suspecting his companion of a trick inherent to his role as a trickster. And the assassin, who was in a less advantageous position—restricted in movement, painfully tensed in that private place where all his arousal was concentrated, feeling the insistent pulsation of the other’s organ spreading particles of temptation through his desire-wracked body—yielded this time.'Although the airship left port two hours later than others following the same course,' Illumi explained with hidden, poorly concealed dissatisfaction, using a persistent manipulation to free his hands clasped behind him so the satisfied hunter’s victory would be at least partially dampened, 'it doesn't make intermediate stops and arrives at the destination three hours ear-ly-y-y!'Suddenly taking the passion-hardened phallus that pierced his core all the way to the end, Zoldyck choked on his precisely measured words, unable to suppress a low moan forced from his usually expressionless lips.'...earlier,' Illumi finished with inimitable, unbeatable stubbornness. Just like that. Exceptional candor and rationality.Hisoka laughed silkily, without any mockery—at both his lover’s answer and his persistence in maintaining an emotionless face no matter what. Such wonderful straightforwardness from a young man who hardly looked like a living person delighted the magician. But he intended to get even more straightforwardness—and pure emotions—out of him...'Oh, is that so...' Hisoka drawled with absolute theatrical amazement, making a lazy, agonizingly slow but very powerful movement inside his partner, so that the latter, feeling the rough slide across the bedspread with sensually tensed nipples, exhaled raggedly and instinctively crumpled the fabric in unconscious pleasure. 'And I thought we were here because of Killua...''Killua is here?' Illumi asked back somewhat blankly, pushing himself up and seating himself deeper onto the member, causing Hisoka to growl predatorily, grip his partner tighter by the hip bones, and press his groin to his buttocks, leaving not an inch of free space between their intertwined, heated bodies.While the stunned Zoldyck processed the information, Hisoka steadily attacked the anus that hospitably received him and elastically adjusted to the shape and size of his member, but he received no proper response from his partner, who was frozen in thought. And while Illumi, as if turned into an ice sculpture, evaluated the likelihood of a lie from a companion prone to meaningless provocations, Moro, without easing the desired onslaught, hotly caressed the young, strong body, studying the changes in his cold lover’s mood. But Zoldyck remained indifferent for a while.'You're lying,' he finally decided.'Perhaps,' Hisoka drawled, then, flipping the young man’s long, intrusive hair over his chest, he tickled him by running his tongue up Illumi’s spine between the shoulder blades, simultaneously caressing his member with a palm, gripping the shaft tightly with grasping fingers. Zoldyck, arching toward the pleasant bliss, relaxed and covered the other's palm with his own, urging him to continue the long-awaited touch. The brother, who simply couldn't be on board this exact airship, dissolved into a thick, impenetrable fog that had crept into the infallible clarity of his thoughts due to a pleasure as sharp as the deadliest weapon.When Hisoka, after another fierce thrust into his partner’s trembling body, caught the protruding bone of his shoulder blade with his teeth—either tickling or biting—Illumi couldn't take it and groaned hoarsely. Moro bit his flesh again in the same spot, as if demonstrating that he had achieved what he wanted and intended to tear such sensual cries from his lover’s throat again and again...'I confess,' Hisoka suddenly resumed the conversation that was confusing Illumi, speaking low and playing vibrantly with his words. 'I am prone to lying sometimes.'With the fingers of the hand that had been smoothly stroking his partner’s frequently heaving chest and steel abs, he hooked Illumi’s chin, turned his head, and kissed him—with taste, on the lips. Zoldyck suddenly felt cheated: Hisoka’s tongue, while nimble, hot, and toxically sarcastic, was definitely an ordinary human tongue. Not forked, like a snake’s...And Hisoka, breaking the kiss, delivered the final blow: 'But not this time. Killua-kun really is on the airship. Traveling with his friend, Gon.'Held by the hips, as if his partner suspected he would slip away to his brother, Illumi turned his torso toward Hisoka as much as possible in the heat of intercourse and looked long into his eyes, which were narrowed in playful mischief. This time, they were honest, as paradoxical as that might be.Not wanting to let go of the young man who had clearly signaled his intent to break free, Hisoka tightened his grip on his lover’s magnificent athletic thighs. But Illumi made a lightning-fast strike, his elbow barely grazing the chin of his opponent, who managed to duck just in time. Taking advantage of the moment the hunter's grip loosened, Zoldyck broke the intimate contact between them. Possessing incredible flexibility, he deftly spun on one knee, aiming a roundhouse kick with his other leg at Hisoka’s head.The instantaneous strike was intercepted just as swiftly. Hisoka caught his rampaging partner by the shin and pinned him to the bed once more, hovering over him with a hunger that flared up with renewed force, his gaze boring into the bottomless, otherworldly darkness of the eyes opposite him.Excitement churned within the devious magician."You're not acting very husband-like, Illumi-kun," Hisoka rebuked his lover with almost sincere hurt. Moro had discarded the phrase 'friend-like,' which he had initially intended to say, recalling how coldly Illumi used to lecture him on the uselessness of friendship. Besides, their exotic relationship hardly resembled that of friends. But an unusual, extravagant couple? That fit perfectly.Zoldyck felt to his right for his weapon-studded vest and, without breaking eye contact, attempted to drive a needle between his opponent's eyes. The icy tip of the metal froze a millimeter from Hisoka’s skin. Hisoka’s palm intercepted the assassin’s wrist without much effort. Moro offered a subtle smirk."Your sweet little brother can wait," Hisoka said silkily, kissing the knuckles of Illumi’s clenched fist. Then, carefully, as if testing it, he licked the skin, salty with sweat, ran his tongue up from the wrist, and finally trailed it along the entire length of the needle until he reached the tip. "Although the airship left port two hours later than the others on this course, it makes no intermediate stops and arrives at the destination three hours earlier. But more importantly—Killua was listed on the passenger manifest. I wanted to make sure he was alright before we arrived. A controlled environment, limited space—ideal conditions for observation. Am I right?""Killua is here?" Illumi clarified in a flat tone, though his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the needle.He already knew this—he had chosen this specific flight for that very reason. But the fact that Hisoka was also aware... that changed the layout of the game."You were tracking me," he stated without a hint of judgment, rather with professional interest. "Or were you tracking Killua?"Hisoka merely offered a cryptic smile and continued his provocative exploration of the needle's edge with his tongue, never breaking eye contact."Both, perhaps. Or neither. Does it matter?" He paused, amber eyes gleaming with mischief. "As for me... I can hardly wait until morning."With those words, Hisoka grabbed his prey by the ankles. Intending to once again fill the pleasant tightness between those enticingly firm, supple buttocks, he forced Illumi’s legs apart with such strength it was as if he wanted to tear them from his body, to rip them out by the root so this selfish rebel couldn't escape and leave him unsatisfied.Suddenly, Moro hissed a curse as his knee struck the heavy mythology book. Distracted for a split second, he gave the talented assassin and formidable fighter an opening to strike. Failing to block the blow, Hisoka took a heel to the jaw. His head snapped back and forth like a doll’s. He stretched his lips—now throbbing with a stinging pain—into a thrill-seeking grin and licked away the emerging blood.Illumi blinked, as if shaking off an intrusive spell. Hisoka was far too tempting."Whenever it comes to Killua, you completely lose your head," Moro persisted. The degree to which Illumi was provoked still wasn't enough for him. "Not a shred of composure..."It was said with such an accusing expression and so offensively, as if he had been deemed utterly incompetent as an assassin, unable to keep himself and his emotions under control. Illumi’s face became unprecedentedly terrifying, and the surging tide of Nen gathered around the young man in a dense, black vortex. But the sting somewhere behind his ribs—forming the seed of something like resentment—was nothing compared to the obstacle his companion had become, preventing him from immediately verifying Killua’s safety.Zoldyck remained ominously silent, devouring Hisoka with a lethally empty stare, while Hisoka raised his eyebrows in admiration. Moro pushed his experiment further, declaring with the tone of a doctor delivering a grim diagnosis:"It's a clear case of a severely neglected older brother complex. Your attachment to him is more like a manic obsession..."Illumi’s murderous aura didn't just turn black—it thickened into such a concentrated darkness that one could go blind in its impenetrable matter. Hisoka felt the other's power enveloping him, trying to crush him, to split him into invisible atoms. It only made him more heated, forcing him to crave bridling this force and making it submit—or being broken by it. Both options suited him. However, his desire to finish what he started with the wielder of this power was even more passionate. Today, he had seen enough of what he wanted to see. But his body was not yet sated."Oh, come on, Illumi-kun," Hisoka said in a conciliatory, most good-natured tone, stroking the enraged killer’s knee without a hint of fear. "You do love Killua-kun very much, don’t you?"The mention of his love for his brother acted like a fire suppression system. It was as if those two words—'love' and 'Killua'—restored the balance and stability that had been so carelessly disrupted. He forgot—which was equivalent to forgiving—Hisoka’s stubborn refusal to let him go to his brother immediately and his essentially truthful, harmless prodding.He replied in his invariably flat voice: 'Undoubtedly.''In that case, as a loving brother, you wouldn't want to disturb your dear little brother’s sleep. It’s late. Killua-kun is already asleep, honest. I saw it with my own eyes.'The hand on his knee moved unambiguously down the thigh to the groin, covering Illumi’s scrotum and squeezing softly, causing the stubborn man’s toes to curl. Simultaneously, Hisoka’s fingers encircled the base of his partner’s erect member. Zoldyck lost himself in the sensations while pondering the words of the true magician. Illumi caught himself thinking with irritation that Hisoka was quite the manipulator. But he was useful. Illumi truly believed that, so he couldn't give him up. And, perhaps, not only for that reason. But that 'not only' remained beyond the edge of his understanding and feeling. Such was his worldview."I will see him in the morning."Zoldyck made the concession, relaxing back onto the pillows and placing himself entirely at the disposal of the partner who had gained the upper hand. The reproach thrown at him earlier echoed obsessively in his head: 'Not acting very husband-like...' He wasn't sure if he felt guilty. Unsatisfied—more so. After all, Illumi also wanted to continue the act, which had been interrupted specifically because of Hisoka, who had decided to enjoy the spectacle of someone else’s power. Sometimes, this entertainer was unbearable."I knew it," Hisoka sighed silkily, like a seasoned instigator, putting on a show of disappointment while holding his partner’s raised legs by the knees and slowly penetrating that coveted interior once again. "You won't be able to refrain from seeing little Killua..."Illumi pierced Hisoka with a horrifying gaze in which an icy cosmos expanded, and repeated firmly, as if to a simpleton: 'I will see him in the morning.'...And his whole body jolted as he felt the insistent sliding inside, ending each time with a dominant chord against his most sensitive spot—so deep he wanted to lose himself and cry out loud. His legs, lowered onto the bed, sought support helplessly during another fierce thrust until they caught the long-suffering book, knocking it to the floor."I understand you," Hisoka assured Illumi, who had finally hooked his legs around his partner’s waist. "But let's make a deal: promise that if you really do go to look at Killua before the airship lands, you’ll grant me one small request. I’m not daring you or making a bet. I’m certain you won't back down from your decision, so I want a small reward as payment for the information.""And if I restrain myself?" Zoldyck asked, simply for the sake of it, already rejecting such an outcome."You won't," Hisoka smirked, and Illumi’s expression barely shifted. But Moro knew that this was how the strange young man frowned when he was deciding something for himself."Fine. I will grant your request," Illumi promised, while his hand—the one not clutching a deadly needle—came to rest on his partner’s perfect, hard abs, and his somewhat distant gaze settled on his red lips. He looked thoughtfully at the dried blood seeping sparingly from a small crack, and Hisoka watched the quieted assassin with interest, waiting to see what he intended to do, his focus unbothered by the intensely deep movements.Illumi liked this—the way Hisoka took him, alternating between intoxicatingly mad activity and a steady, agonizing laziness; the way his disheveled, fiery hair hid his predatory eyes, giving the man’s face a devastatingly demonic look... He liked Hisoka’s peerless, sculpted body and his staggering, beyond-limit strength—so much so that he sometimes wondered: 'If Hisoka is the pure embodiment of strength, does that mean I like Hisoka himself—entirely, as he is?'
Illumi paused on that thought, analyzing it with the cold methodicity he applied to everything else in his life.
Did he like Hisoka as a person? The concept seemed meaningless. People were tools, targets, or obstacles. Hisoka didn't fit entirely into any single category.
He was... useful. Stronger than most. Unpredictable, which made him an interesting opponent for sparring. And he never asked foolish questions about feelings or morality, as ordinary people tended to do.
But there was something else. When Hisoka looked at him—like this, right now, with that wild hunger in his eyes—Illumi felt... not fear. Not excitement in the conventional sense. But something akin to the sensation before jumping into an abyss. Adrenaline without emotion. The anticipation of battle without the necessity of a kill.
Perhaps this was what others referred to as "attraction."
Illumi decided not to delve further into this analysis. The result was more important than the cause: Hisoka was here, Hisoka was strong, and Hisoka satisfied the needs of his body. That was sufficient.
It was this not-quite-processed conclusion that clouded Illumi’s mind as he fixed his gaze on his lover’s lips. Zoldyck thrust his hips sharply toward his partner, pushing off the bed with his hands, and, supported by his companion’s grip on his buttocks, ended up straddling his knees.Illumi attacked—sinking his sharp teeth into Hisoka’s wounded lips, at the exact spot where the fresh crack had barely begun to heal—fast, wild, and fierce. Then he pulled back and admired his work for a few seconds, watching as Moro licked away the newly drawn blood with an expression of devilish, spine-tingling delight...Hisoka arched a thin eyebrow in surprise, suspecting his partner of being able to read minds with the uncontrollable, manic joy of a small wish fulfilled. He had indeed been thinking of this, and Illumi had realized his fantasy: with the hand gripping the needle, the assassin, without flinching and without taking his eyes off Hisoka's face, pressed the stinging tip into his own flesh until the delicate skin turned white at the point of contact, damaging his lower lip until bright red blood began to flow from a deep puncture...Hisoka buried his hand in the hair at the back of his partner’s head and leaned forward. Their wounded mouths merged, mixing the salty warmth of spilled blood. A bloody and beautiful pagan oath... A kiss, unbearably scorching with sacredness. There was not even a trace of lust in it. A lover does not kiss like that.Illumi closed his eyes. For some reason, his parents appeared in his mind's eye. It felt strange, but it was perceived—sensed—as incredible.Because only a loving husband could kiss like that...Copper-smeared lips part, and Hisoka—having tasted the passionately craved blood of the assassin who conquered him with talent and strength—loses his grip on restraint. He roughly pins Illumi, who is biting into his collarbone, onto his shoulder blades. Catching him by the thighs, he works his unyielding flesh inside his lover’s captive body with bold, powerful, and zealous thrusts, stealing from that heartless chest long-dead, buried feelings cloaked in the cautious sounds of a monotonic voice.In the sighs, moans, and cries that the magician wrung from Illumi’s throat, there was no sentimentality, yet his response was unfathomably and monstrously arousing, stirring nerves with the imminent proximity of danger—as if a fearless swimmer had intruded upon a bottomless black lake, and it responded to every movement in the depths of its cold, mysterious waters with a quiet, hungry splash. And the deeper the desperate diver plunged, the more responsive the lake became...Wrapping his arms possessively around his lover’s neck, Zoldyck arches within the hands gripping his waist, his length—glistening pearly with pre-ejaculate—brushing against the firm, contoured torso. Feeling a painfully saturated pulse within himself, he spills over with a moan that sounds remarkably like an icy lake splash.Hisoka holds out longer, commanding the weary, relaxed entrance to vicious pleasure at the same frantic pace with which he brought his partner to the finish. Illumi grips Hisoka’s buttocks, pulling himself sharply onto the staunchly erect organ, driving it deeper into himself. Fixing his indifferent eyes defiantly on his companion’s smirking face, he constricts the muscles of his anus. From the surging wave of ecstasy that crashes over him, Hisoka lets out a long, guttural moan and blissfully closes his eyes, throwing his head back as he thrusts into his lover’s once-again relaxed body one last time.The man squints with satisfaction, carefully breaking the union of their bodies.'I’m hitting the shower first,' Hisoka says, lightly brushing his lips against the corner of Illumi’s mouth, which is invariably set in a straight line.Cheerful and content, he pulls away from his silent lover only to let out a stifled gasp: Zoldyck, instantly squeezing his companion’s throat with one hand, tackles him back onto the bed and pins him down with his body.'Now we swap,' he says measuredly, as if hypnotizing him, using that very dominance that Moro loves so much in him. Hisoka runs his fingertips caressingly over Illumi’s hip bone, which protrudes sharply beneath the soft skin, and smiles—anticipatingly. He doesn’t mind at all...Hisoka had known of Killua's presence since the moment of boarding—such details never escaped his attention. But telling Illumi ahead of time? That would have been a waste. Instead, he had waited patiently for the right moment to use the information for maximum profit. The deal about the "picturesque place" was merely a pretext. In truth, he was curious: how would the elder Zoldyck behave, knowing the younger was two steps away but inaccessible until morning? Control or impulsiveness? Calculation or obsession?The experiment had succeeded perfectly.Early in the morning, when the sky stretching beyond the portholes had barely begun to brighten, and while Illumi was showering and making himself presentable, Hisoka made a foray out of the cabin to check on the acquaintances who happened to be on the same airship.But Illumi had his own agenda.He emerged from the cabin at precisely 6:47 AM, dressed in his usual attire, hair perfectly arranged, not a single sign of the previous night's activities visible on his composed face.
The shower was short and efficient. Illumi stood under the stream of water, washing away the traces of the night—sweat, blood (mostly his own, some of Hisoka’s), and the scent of sex. His body was functioning normally. A dull ache in his shoulders from wrenched joints, a slight soreness in his lower back—nothing that would interfere with his work.
Drying off, he dressed methodically: underwear, trousers, shirt, the pin-laden vest. Every movement was automatic, honed by years of training.
Hisoka was still asleep—sprawled across the bed in a careless posture entirely unbefitting a professional assassin. The scratches on his back (Illumi had left them during the second round) looked like embellishments on a marble statue.
Illumi did not wake him. He did not say goodbye. He simply gathered his things and left.
Hisoka would understand. He always did.
The airship's dining area was beginning to serve breakfast—a modest buffet for those passengers wealthy enough to afford cabin accommodations.Illumi had no interest in food.He positioned himself at a table near the back of the dining area, a cup of black coffee providing plausible cover for his presence. From this vantage point, he had a clear line of sight to the coach section's entrance. He knew Killua's patterns. His brother would be hungry after a night in an uncomfortable chair. He would come here.Illumi waited with the patience of a predator in a blind.Eight minutes later, Killua appeared.The boy looked rumpled from sleep, white hair sticking up at odd angles, stretching his arms above his head as he walked. Gon was beside him, chattering about something with his characteristic enthusiasm. Neither of them noticed Illumi.Good.Illumi's eyes tracked every movement. Killua's gait—no limp, no hesitation. Healthy. His posture—relaxed, open. No signs of injury or distress. His expressions as he responded to Gon—animated, genuine. Happy.The word settled in Illumi's mind like a foreign object. Happy.Killua was happy.This was... problematic. Happiness made people soft. Made them vulnerable. Made them forget their training, their purpose, their family. Gon Freecss was a corrupting influence, filling Killua's head with ridiculous notions about friendship and freedom and choice.And yet.Illumi watched as Killua laughed at something Gon said—a real laugh, not the bitter, angry sound he'd made during their last confrontation. Watched as his brother grabbed a plate and began loading it with food, complaining good-naturedly about airplane cuisine. Watched as the two boys found a table far from the other passengers, in their own little world.Killua was... thriving.Away from Kukuroo Mountain. Away from the family. Away from Illumi.The observation should have produced anger. Disappointment. The urge to intervene, to remind Killua of his obligations, to drag him back where he belonged.Instead, Illumi felt... nothing. The familiar void where emotions should be.No. Not quite nothing.Satisfaction. Clinical, detached satisfaction. Killua was in optimal condition. His combat readiness would be maintained through his adventures with Gon. When the time came to reclaim him—and it would come—he would be even stronger than before.This was acceptable.Illumi took a sip of coffee. It had gone cold. He didn't care.His phone buzzed—a message from Hisoka: "Found them. Come play?"Illumi stood, leaving the untouched coffee on the table. As he walked past Killua's table, he allowed himself one final glance.Killua had frozen mid-bite, fork halfway to his mouth. Those blue eyes—so like their mother's—had gone wide. He'd sensed something. Some prey instinct warning him of a nearby predator.But he couldn't see Illumi. The assassin was already past him, Zetsu concealing his presence perfectly.Illumi permitted himself the ghost of a smile.Soon, little brother. But not today.Today, Killua could have his happiness. Illumi had other entertainment waiting.His targets were found quickly: the hunter's keen eye spotted their distinctive heads—one black, one white—at the opposite end of the vessel’s lounge.Hiding his presence was child's play for Hisoka, so Gon and Killua, sitting right on the floor and intently watching the clouds drifting by—pearly in the dawn haze—did not sense the man approaching them. They were talking in low voices, sincere and carefree. Hisoka listened and barely suppressed a toxic chuckle. The younger Zoldyck, frowning periodically and speaking with tones of desperate indignation, was complaining to his best friend about... Illumi."My brother is completely heartless!" Killua exclaims angrily, his voice ringing and irritated."You think?"The boys flinch in sync at the inimitable timbre that voiced the question addressed to Killua. The young hunters turn, coming face-to-face with the man they firmly associate with madness and nightmares. They are both on guard; in Hisoka’s presence, the boys consider it reckless to relax. But the man shows no hostility. He seems well-disposed, though a creepy, playful smile wanders across his lips."Killua-kun," Hisoka lowers his voice to a sinister rumble. "Have you ever heard Illumi scream and moan?"The heart in Killua’s chest constricts and stings, as if it were encased in a vise studded with spikes on the inside. Hisoka’s wild eyes glow like molten gold—as if he has emerged victorious from a heavy, cruel battle with a formidable opponent. His older brother is, without question, terrifyingly strong, but knowing Hisoka, Killua is afraid to even imagine what he could have done to Illumi if he managed to make him—someone completely insensitive to pain and almost entirely detached from emotion—scream."What did you do to him?!" Killua blurted out, jumping to his feet before he realized he had betrayed his concern. Even if he feared his brother, and at times even outright hated him, Illumi was still family; they shared the same blood. And he didn't wish him dead—at least, not seriously.Hisoka bared his teeth carnally in a devilish smile, and Killua went cold with a bad premonition."Young men! Do you know the myth of Coyolxauhqui?" The man’s enthusiastic, passionate tone boded nothing comforting. He raised his eyes to the heavens and, with a mesmerizing blend of theatricality and sympathy, exclaimed: "Ah! Poor thing! The unfortunate goddess was torn to pieces, and her body parts were scattered across the world..."The clear eyes of the young hunters, wide open, froze in an expression of silent horror. Killua, paralyzed, jerked his head nervously as if trying to deny everything he’d been told. It didn't work. The vision wouldn't vanish: before the boy’s eyes stood the grisly image of his mangled brother, staring at him from a sea of his own blood with lifeless obsidian eyes...Gon was protesting something, trying to catch Hisoka in a lie, but Killua didn't hear him. His gaze was fixed on a needle—definitely belonging to his brother—with traces of dried blood on it, which Hisoka was casually twirling in his fingers as if flaunting his feat."Don't worry so much! You didn't love him anyway..." Hisoka pretends to try and support the younger Zoldyck, placing a comforting hand on the stunned boy’s shoulder, but Killua recoils nervously. The man’s words make him feel ashamed, despite the fact that they are true. Killua doesn't immediately realize that Hisoka has been laughing for some time..."Your brother is alive and well," the magician assures the boy, who is slowly recovering from the shock, and Zoldyck belatedly realizes he was being mocked. Killua explodes with rage, but Hisoka’s next words cool him down: "But you really are unfair to him. Illumi-kun is very sensitive, especially in certain places..."The young hunters look at the man with unutterable amazement, not fully grasping the meaning of his remarks, but heat flushes the faces of these innocent listeners, and a terrible awkwardness floods their souls... Hisoka cements the effect of his prank, taking advantage of the fact that the stunned boys cannot utter a single sound."And last night, your brother was so responsive when I took..."He suddenly cuts the sentence short, feeling a piercing gaze from the other end of the lounge fixed on the back of his head. Hisoka notes the familiar dread filling the younger Zoldyck’s blue eyes and, with a smirk, heads toward the cause of it, casually tossing a friendly 'Enjoy your trip!' to the nerve-wracked young hunters."Why did Kil look at me with such horror?" Illumi inquires when Hisoka approaches him. "Did you scare him?""He always looks at you like that," Hisoka dismisses his companion and receives a long, uncomprehending look in return."Killua loves me," Illumi states with conviction. He takes Hisoka’s words for a bad joke. Moro only smirks secretly but doesn't argue with his partner, knowing it’s useless. In matters regarding his love for his younger brother, Illumi becomes irrational. Then again, Killua’s concern for the life of the brother he criticizes—isn't that a sign of love?"Why did you do it?" Illumi asked evenly once they were heading back to the cabin."Testing a hypothesis," Hisoka shrugged. "Killua says he doesn't love you. But when he thought you were dead..." the magician trailed a finger over his lips, "...his face betrayed the truth. He fears you. He hates your methods. But the bond is still there. Isn't it pleasant to know that?"Illumi remained silent, processing the information. Somewhere deep—so deep he barely noticed it himself—something warm stirred in his chest.
Once they had retreated to a safe distance, Illumi stopped and turned to Hisoka.
"Why did you do that?" His voice was level, but something sharp flickered in his eyes.
"Do what, exactly?" Hisoka smiled innocently, but Illumi wasn't buying the act.
"Scaring Killua. Making him think I was dead."
Hisoka tilted his head, studying his face. "Didn't you notice? He turned pale. His hands were shaking. He wasn't afraid for himself—he was afraid for you." A pause. "Your little brother still cares for you, Illumi-kun. Despite everything."
Illumi remained silent, processing the information. Somewhere deep down—so deep he barely noticed it himself—something warm stirred in his chest. Something resembling satisfaction.
"You are manipulating both of us," he stated.
"Always," Hisoka smiled. "But the results speak for themselves, don't they?"
Illumi didn't answer. But he didn't object, either.
As I maintained, you couldn't restrain yourself," Hisoka reminds his companion. "I hope you haven't forgotten our deal?"Illumi looks intently toward where his brother is and suppresses the urge to approach. The top of the hateful Gon’s head is also visible there—the boy who corrupted Killua with fantasies of friendship—and that stops the assassin. Gon could become the cause of a conflict with Hisoka, who protected the boy for his own manic reasons. A serious and misplaced fight with his companion was not desirable for Illumi. Killua was unharmed. For now, that was enough."What do you want?" As he asks, Zoldyck turns and heads back to the cabin. Landing is soon. They needed to pack."Only that you accompany me to a very picturesque place once you finish your work," Hisoka whispers intriguingly into his companion’s ear, putting an arm around his waist, and assures him: "You’ll like it..."In response, Illumi fixes him with a boundless gaze, as cold as outer space, in which Hisoka manages to read a very eloquent skepticism. But the magician is certain that his companion will, in the end, be persuaded. Hisoka never doubted his own powers.Before leaving, Illumi caught a glimpse of the book lying on the floor, open to the article on Coyolxauhqui. The dismembered goddess stared at the ceiling with dead eyes."Do you know the most interesting thing about this myth?" Hisoka picked up the book, snapped it shut, and placed it on the table. "Her brother, Huitzilopochtli, gathered all the pieces of her body and turned them into the moon. Even destroyed, she continues to exist—forever revolving around the world that rejected her."Illumi looked at him without emotion."Are you trying to draw a parallel between me and a fratricidal god?""I'm just saying," Hisoka smirked, "that even bonds torn to pieces have a tendency to persist. Sometimes forever."When they stepped out, the book remained on the table—neatly closed, like a finished chapter. Half a day later, the airship begins its return flight. Left all alone in one of its cabins, from the captivity of open pages, the dismembered goddess—whose body parts were scattered across the whole world—stares at the prosaic and boring ceiling with eyes wide in a monstrous mixture of grief, anger, and horror. Hisoka's lips, wounded from the night's kiss, still held the taste of copper blood, and ahead of them lay the path to the altar of Quetzalcoatl.
"By the way," Hisoka pulled a folded newspaper clipping from his inner pocket and handed it to Illumi. "Here is that scenic spot I mentioned."
Illumi unfolded the yellowed paper. The article was in Spanish, but the photograph spoke for itself: an ancient pyramid surrounded by jungle. The headline said something about the mysterious disappearance of tourists near the Temple of Quetzalcoatl.
"A temple in Central America," Hisoka explained, looking over Illumi’s shoulder. "I heard an interesting group of Nen users resides there. They consider themselves descendants of ancient priests."
Illumi looked at the image of stone steps leading to an altar.
"Are they dangerous?"
"Very," Hisoka’s eyes lit up. "Their leader, they say, can conjure visions of gods. I want to see if those visions are real or just a very convincing manipulation of Nen."
"And if they are real?"
Hisoka licked his lips.
"Then it will be even more interesting."
Illumi folded the clipping and tucked it into his pocket.
"When do we fly out?"
"In three days. After you hand in your report to the family. I’ve already booked the tickets through an agency."
Illumi nodded and headed toward the exit. Hisoka walked beside him, whistling a jaunty tune.
Somewhere below, in the economy class passenger lounge, Killua was still trying to explain to Gon why his older brother was the most horrible person on the planet.
Illumi didn't know about that.
But even if he had—it wouldn't have changed a thing.